The Blue Hour
by Efflorescent.Hours
Summary: ONE-SHOT Inspired by the song "Self-Conclusion" by The Spill Canvas. Astoria offers Draco one chance to show her why life is worth living. Draco is willing to put it all on the line, his pride and his pain, to show this beautiful girl that life with him could be worth it. COMPLETE


**_The Blue Hour_**

 _A Draco Malfoy & Astoria Greengrass One-Shot_

* * *

 _2 May 2001_

Classes were cancelled in memoriam. It was a holiday in honor of the things that occurred on at Hogwarts just a short three years ago. Has it really been three years already?

Astoria Greengrass arrived early in that foggy morning at the reconstructed Covered Bridge. Gently, her hands grazed the new, unmarked wood that stretched over the ravine. She withdrew her hand and brought it to her neck, bringing her jumper more securely about her neck—though it was the early hours of May, it was colder than usual this year.

After fiddling with the neck of her jumper, Astoria leaned against the bridge and stared into the ravine. Slowly she closed her light-colored eyes and took a deep breathe, intent on honoring this time of the day, her very favorite: the blue hour—the time between the black of night, and the vivid gold of sunrise. It was a time she had grown familiar with.

With her eyes closed, wails began to pierce her ears. The sounds of dozens of desperate, deep cries and groans of pain flooded her hearing. She was in the Great Hall, and it was three years ago. The scent of blood filled her nostrils and Astoria's stomach turned, but luckily, there was nothing in it to throw up. And finally, hazel eyes engulfed her memory. Listlessly staring, flat, hazel eyes. Dead eyes.

Astoria gulped for air as she opened her eyes remembering that it was now 2001, and not 1998. Still gasping for air to fill her lungs and drown out the memories that robbed sleep from her, she looked down into the ravine that seemed bottomless. Quietly, and with all the dexterity of a determined young woman, she used her upper arm strength to hoist herself onto the waist-high wall of the bridge, her feet dangling over the edge of the ravine. From here, she could feel the wind of the chasm below taunt her—if it blew any harder, surely she would fall.

"Hey! You there! Stop!"

Startled, Astoria looked up and gripped the edge of the wall tighter to keep her balance as she squinted through the fog for the owner of the voice who dared tell her what to do.

 **o**

This was the second year in a row in which he came to the Covered Bridge during the blue hour. The first year after it happened, he came in the early afternoon when other families and friends milled about the bridge, and he quickly learned he was not a welcome face. So, he decided he could come well before anyone else arrived. He made a promise to himself that he would come every year, no matter where he was, or what he was doing. He would return to this bridge and remember all the sins he had committed—a harsh memento of a time that he lost himself; and a renewal of a promise that he would never lose himself again.

The thickness of the fog led Draco Malfoy to believe he was alone, up until he heard the sudden intake of breath from someone not too far away. Immediately, instinctually, his hand went to his pocket and he withdrew his wand, keeping it at his side. Self-perseverance screamed at him to flee the scene, but the curiosity of a lost young man propelled him forward.

Draco could only see a few feet in front of him, and as he drew closer to where he heard someone take a breath, the fog cleared just enough for him to see the outline of a girl.

Her brown hair blew about her face face as she seemed to struggle for breath, the way one does when the surface from being under water. And Draco watched as she suddenly brought herself up over the ledge and sat on it, gripping tightly to the bridge. Draco's stomach dropped as he watched the girl lean forward, perilously over the edge.

"Hey! You there! Stop!"

Maybe this was his chance. Draco quickly came forward, paling when he realized his voice started the girl who had to be absolutely mad for being so reckless.

 **o**

"You…" Draco was finally close enough to see the girl's beautiful features clearly. She had an aristocratic face; pink, bow-shaped lips, a straight and narrow nose, and finely arched eyebrows that were currently furrowed with unmasked irritation—and he could easily imagine those eyebrows arching in quiet disapproval, a look the women in his social circle deemed necessary to perfect.

"Me," Astoria answered, and she arched a perfect eyebrow.

There was a pregnant pause, and Astoria breathed out a sigh. "Excuse me, sir, but if "you" is all you have to say, then it's best you leave, because you're in my way." Her tone was still polite, but dismissive.

"Excuse me, miss, but do you have the slightest clue of who you're talking to?" Draco immediately flared at the girl's nerve, and old habits died hard.

"I wouldn't care if you were Dumbledore himself, back from the dead." Astoria noticed the young man flinch, as if he was slapped, and she bit her lip. She was being more discourteous than necessary—but discourteous kept her safe. "Of course I know who you are," she tried in a more gentle voice. "You're Draco Malfoy." The smallest hint of a smile touched her lips. "I bet you don't even know me."

Draco watched the girl carefully, putting himself back into check after her comment about Dumbledore. "You'll have to forgive me," he replied calmly. "You look familiar, but I don't remember your name. I'd like to know you, though."

He watched as the young woman assessed him—he could tell she was a couple years younger than him. Carefully, in sign of good faith, Draco put his wand away and stood calmly as the girl's light-colored eyes expressed all of her thoughts: mistrust, exhaustion, pain, and loss.

Every single thought Draco could relate to. It now became his personal goal to get the beautiful girl away from the edge.

"Astoria Greengrass," she finally said; she had a voice that was clear and calm, and in that moment, Draco was quite sure he could listen to her talk about everything and anything for ages.

"Ah, Daphne's younger sister," Draco supplied. "I remember now. What are you doing here so early?"

"I'm at Hogwarts now," Astoria answered.

"But I thought you were two years my junior?"

"I am, but I took a year off from school after the War, and I'm finishing up my last year now."

"Ah, that's very admirable." Draco walked forward, his blue eyes never leaving Astoria's face. Her body tensed as he walked closer to her, and soon he stood beside her, leaning against the bridges ledge.

"Don't you think this bridge has seen enough death?"

Astoria remained silent as she regarded Draco carefully. She remembered this boy alright. So many girls had crushes on him when they were younger; she even went through a phase of finding him attractive. That quickly faded when he started dating the vapid Pansy Parkison. To this day, Astoria had no idea how her sister could be friends with such an awful human. Now as he stood below her, his blue eyes unwavering on her, she remembered every reason she found him physically attractive. She tore her gaze away from him to look down at the drop beneath her feet.

"The trick is learning how to feel everything you're feeling right now, but don't act on the impulses the feelings lead to, no matter how unbearable the misery gets."

"And how would you know about misery?" she asked sharply. "I haven't forgotten Draco, you made your choices, too." Astoria shook her head and looked to the indigo sky, within the hour, the morning sun would be over the horizon. "You make it sound so easy to move forward into a new life. So tell me, how do I do that when I feel like everything inside of me feels dead?"

And it was true. It was a combination of the traumatic things she had seen and the sleepless nights that led her to this point. Like the rest of her house, she had escaped into Hogsmeade where she would be safe from The War. Just before she had left that night, she pleaded with her best friend, Andrea Swan, a half-blood Ravenclaw, to go with her. Andrea told her she would stay and fight for Hogwarts and against Voldemort. For the entire night, Astoria worried about Andrea as she held Daphne's hand while she cried the entire time. Astoria on the other hand, didn't cry as she hid. When Slughorn tried to convince them to return to Hogwarts to defend the school, she was one of the first ones to volunteer to return.

And when she returned, she found her best friend's lifeless body in the Great Hall—Andrea Swan's hazel eyes wide open and staring into nothing. That was when Astoria cried—and every night after that, she would relive the scene over and over, and it was driving her mad.

"Trust me," said Draco, his voice soft as he stared down the ravine. "I know I made my choices, but at the end of the day, are we really so different?" He looked up to see Astoria watching him, her beautiful face stony as if she was trying hard not to cry—Draco knew that feeling too. "At the end of the day," he continued, "I think we both lose, we both have to live with things we don't want to."

"So what do I do?" Her voice was so soft. Her family expected her to move on from The War, because that's what all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families were doing. Move on hold their heads high. More than anything, Astoria wanted to, but she couldn't go back to the pureblood belief of purity. She couldn't go back to the child she was before everything went to hell—and her family loudly disapproved.

"What do you do indeed." His voice was thoughtful. Some absurd part of him knew that if this girl were to fall over, it would be something he would never recover. "The way I see it, you have a choice. Instead of falling to your death, you come back over the edge and live."

"With who," she asked, a humorless smile tugged on her lips. "Being with my family and anyone else within our circle is deathly."

"With me," answered Draco, unsure of where the words came from. "Try living with me."

Astoria stared at Draco for a long, hard moment. Finally she laughed, her clear voice echoed around them. "Are you mad? You don't even know me!"

"I know, but I'd like to change that soon, hopefully." Draco could feel the blood rush up his pale cheeks when she laughed, but he refused to back down. There were so many things he wanted to tell this girl, and so many things he wanted to know about her. He knew he could stand there at that bridge with her for hours, but every he felt the rush of the breeze from the ravine, he grew anxious that she would fall—and he wanted her to choose.

Astoria knew all about Draco Malfoy, the boy who seemed to care only about himself. But as the blue sky began to slowly give way to the golden hour on dawn, she realized that maybe she had him wrong all along. Maybe he was capable of being so much more than she realized.

"Come on, Astoria," Draco called and he held out a hand. "Come toward me."

Carefully, Astoria turned, so that she straddled the edge of the bridge, one leg dangling over the ravine, and the other over the floor of the bridge that was much closer. Draco backed up a few inches, giving her space, but his hand was still outstretched. For the briefest moment, Astoria closed her eyes, and as she did so, she could hear the faint wailing and scent of blood that haunted her dreams—and when she opened her eyes, she found the voices and the smell disappeared and Draco was still waiting for her.

Draco. As he stood there, awaiting her answer, she felt neither a pressure nor demand from the boy who had made so many mistakes. And when she searched his clear eyes, she felt something stir in her heart, a feeling she had thought was long gone.

"All right," said Astoria, "you win. I'll give you one day to prove yourself, but I swear if you hurt me, I'll come back to this bridge, and you'll never see it coming."

"Settle, precious," Draco chuckled, though his tone was light, they could both feel the desperation that hung between them. "If one day is what you'll give me, then I will use that time wisely."

Astoria smiled at him then, a quiet smile that spoke about an unbreakable inner strength, and it warmed Draco's heart. As she climbed over the bannister, Astoria's foot slipper, and for a moment her balance was suspended in air.

Immediately, Draco rushed forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him, holding her body tightly to his. He could feel her shake momentarily at what almost could have happened—or maybe it was him that was shaking. Either way, he held her tighter, and he could feel her hands gripping at his arms, keeping him close, as if they could hold each other tight enough to stop the fear.

The dawn broke over the horizon when Astoria finally pulled away enough to look up at Draco, though he wasn't much taller than her. She searched his face, taking in the white blond of his hair, and the tired circled under his eyes as he watched her too.

"Where would you like to go," asked Draco.

"Anywhere," said Astoria. "I'll go anywhere."

"Then let's get out of here for a while." Draco held out his arm and Astoria looped hers through, resting her hand on his forearm, covering his Dark Mark that hid beneath the layers of his sleeves.

With Astoria with him, Draco apparated away. They went to a seaside town where no one knew their name or their story. They spent the morning drinking tea and then walking along the coast. As he thought, Draco was able to listen to Astoria talk for hours—about her childhood, about Hogwarts, about Andrea Swan and her dead hazel eyes, and about the years following The War. He was able to be with her in silence too. But what surprised him most, he would later tell her, was the gentle way she pulled information from him, allowing him to tell his story without shame. She listened to him and understood him to the best of her ability.

And they continued to spend the day together, until night fell and Draco apparated them back to the Covered Bridge at Hogwarts.

"How was that for one day," asked Draco as he and Astoria walked to the part of the bridge where they had met earlier that day. Together, they leaned against the side of the bridge, their shoulders touching.

"I didn't hate it," Astoria answered, and she laughed at Draco's face, a pleasant sound he had come to love. She looked at the castle and then back at Draco, and bit her lip shyly. "But I think I'll need another day to be convinced."

Draco smiled at that. "I can give you that, sweet Astoria. And a hundred other days if you'd like."

"I'll need a thousand."

"That's no trouble at all."

When his lips brushed hers, he thought she tasted like honey, sweet and soothing. When he pulled back, he noticed the curious look in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"How did you know," Astoria asked, her voice awe-filled. "How did you know exactly what to say to make me come over the edge?"

"I didn't," Draco admitted. Normally, he would have played it cool, but Astoria managed to bring out the honesty in him. "But I can tell you, that ten minutes before I saw you, I was thinking about jumping too."

* * *

Song Inspiration: Self-Conclusion by The Spill Canvas

So, for the longest time, the song had inspired me to write a one-shot. For a while, I considered making this a Theo/Hermione, then a Dramoine...and thenI realized how much I loved Astoria and Draco, so I finished with them.


End file.
